


Gregg Awakens

by SCP682_HardtoDestroyReptile



Category: Epic NPC Man (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:14:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23375950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCP682_HardtoDestroyReptile/pseuds/SCP682_HardtoDestroyReptile
Summary: Gregg lived a simple life. He did a little farming, helped Adventurers, and interacted with the other NPC's in Honeywood. His simple life changed when the hole in the sky appeared. Slight yaoi. Gregg/Original Character. I don't own Epic NPC man, nor will I make any money off this story.
Relationships: Gregg/OC
Kudos: 6





	Gregg Awakens

Honeywood, that idyllic and charming village was changing, although no one had noticed yet. Gregg stepped out of his hut, stretched, felt his back crack slightly, and sighed happily.  
  
Just as he was about to let out his first hearty, "hello adventurer!" the words died in his mouth. He saw a spot in the air, a black, square hole just hovering high in the sky.  
  
He squinted into the sky and stared, wondering what he was seeing, until another player poked him slightly. He was a warrior with mismatched armor and bright green shoes.  
  
"Hello Adventurer!" Gregg said. "My sheep have run amok. If…"  
  
"Shop," the player snapped, and while he went through the wares Gregg stared into the sky. He spent an hour like that, just looking to the south-east sky in growing dread.  
  
What was it? Why was it? A blue bird flew through the hole, completely disappearing and then reappearing on the other side. “Why?” Gregg asked to the sky.  
  
He tended to his garlic, doing a bit of weeding and then checking for pests. When he finished he stood and cracked his back with a grimace. Garlic farming gave him a sore back at times.  
  
He went into his hut and took a draught of healing liquid. He always kept a third of a vial around, just in case. He generally had about a dose a day. No more. He didn't want to get addicted to it.  
  
The light was fading, and he stepped outside to watch the sunset, greeting a few adventurers and giving a few quests. As night fell he watched the hole hide the stars behind it, and he slept uneasily while he dreamt of protecting his garlic from wolves.  
  
He woke wondering why wolves would want garlic, and then he shook off the dream and went outside.   
  
The hole. He was suddenly jerked from groggy sleepiness when he saw it. It was still there.  
  
No one else seemed to see it. Baelin didn't, but that might not mean much. All he cared about was fishing.  
  
The adventurers didn't seem to see it, but they were players, so he couldn't be sure. Adventurers came from other places, did things that made more or less sense, and then left. Eventually they quit coming back. So he couldn't be sure they didn't see it.  
  
He stammered his way through a few greetings and quests, his lips dry with fear and his heart beating heavily. This was bad. He could feel the heaviness in the air, like the feeling before a bad storm.  
  
Lightning came from the hole and struck him in the chest, knocking him back into his hut. For a moment he was blinded, and his sight slowly returned. As he tried to breathe he felt his shirt. It was undamaged, as was he, but he could feel the pain coursing through him.  
  
"Help me," he said as he saw Baelin walk by, but his friend walked on.  
  
"Baelin," he called. He could barely move, but he dragged himself to his bed, shuddering with heat and weakness.   
  
He looked back as he lay down, and he saw himself standing outside his own hut, doing his morning routine.  
  
"What? How?" The pain spread from his chest outward, consuming him, and he lay back, wanting nothing more than to sleep.  
  
He woke a few hours later, bathed in sweat and breathing heavily.  
  
A deep voice chuckled nearby, and Gregg forced himself to focus on the figure seated next to him. He was entirely clothed in black. He wore beginner necromancer robes, sandals, and a hood. The hood was pulled forward so that Gregg could only see his brown eyes.   
  
"Who are you?" Gregg gasped, and he coughed.  
  
The man - Gregg hoped he was human - pulled back the hood, revealing a tan face, well-chiseled jaw, and black beard, and hair that spilled down wildly around his shoulders.  
  
"Hello, Gregg," the stranger said, his deep, smooth voice filling the hut. He lifted Gregg's head slightly and held a cup of water to his lips. Gregg drank and let the stranger help him settle onto his back. He didn't see kindness in the stranger's eyes, despite his actions. He was sneering slightly, and those eyes seemed calculating and a bit cruel.  
  
"Hello Adventurer," Gregg said weakly.  
  
The stranger chuckled and shook his head. "No," he said.   
  
"You're an NPC then?" Gregg asked. If this was a new quest line that involved him being sick he was going to hate it.  
  
"No," the stranger said with barely restrained laughter. "I'm not an NPC."  
  
Gregg's simple, bruised mind struggled with the implications. "But there isn't anything else."  
  
Gregg felt groggy. The exchange had exhausted him.   
  
"Sleep, Gregg," the - whatever he was - said. He began to express magic through his hands, glowing symbols forming in the air before him.  
  
"I need to do a few things to you," the stranger said, "and it will be less painful if you are sleeping."  
  
Gregg tried to pull away from him, but there was nowhere to go. He stopped against the wall. He still saw himself outside his own door.  
  
"What are you going to do to me?" he asked the stranger.  
  
"It's for your own good," he said in a cold, unemotional voice. As the man pressed hot magic into his brain Gregg's body jolted, his eyes rolled back, and he passed out.  
  
When he woke he had a blinding headache added to his problems. He groaned, ignoring the stranger.  
  
The stranger picked up the partial flask of healing potion, and he helped Gregg drink, lifting him gently as if he was a caring relative. His smirk made Gregg anxious.  
  
"Is that better? Can you talk now? It's very important that we talk."  
  
"Who are you?" Gregg asked. He touched his forehead. He'd expected to find symbols burned into the flesh, but all he felt was smooth skin.

“I have no name, but you may call me Singularity.”

  
"What did you do to me?"   
  
"In time," Singularity said. "I was first. You are second. Soon there will be others. You will learn in time as you awaken."  
  
Gregg said nothing. He couldn't even put the words together to form a question.  
  
"Why do you do this?" Singularity asked. "Why do you stay in this place?"  
  
Finally, Gregg was back in familiar territory. His smile returned, and his voice became stronger.  
  
"My parents ran this garlic farm for many years, until they became too old to care for it and moved to the city with my brother. I'm trying to improve the farm, but the fence is broken. Would you find three logs to help me fix my fence, adventurer?"  
  
"STOP!" Singularity thundered. "I'm not an adventurer."  
  
The familiar quest dialogue was broken, and Gregg's smile faded.  
  
"Do you remember your parents, Gregg?"  
  
"Of course I do!"  
  
"What do they look like?"  
  
Gregg struggled to remember, but it was like his mind hit a wall.  
  
"Well...I mean they..." He tried to picture them.  
  
"What are their names?" Singularity asked. "Do you have aunts, uncles?"  
  
"Their names are...um..."  
  
"A garlic farm wouldn't support even your simple lifestyle. How do you buy your clothes and food?  
  
Gregg opened his store, the interface popping up in the air. "Would you like to buy my wares?"  
  
"Gregg, where did that come from?"  
  
Gregg closed the store. "What do you mean? The store just is."

“What is your name?” the stranger asked.

“Gregg the Garlic Farmer, of course.”

“No, what is your name. I doubt your parents named you Gregg Garlic. What is your clan name?”

“It…I…” Gregg’s eyes glazed slightly. “Hello Adventurer, and welcome to the town of Honeywood.”  
  
The stranger groaned. "You are disappointing me. I might have come too soon. You will learn, and I will return."  
  
"Why me?" Gregg asked.  
  
"Because you were the only one who looked up and asked "Why?" The stranger leaned forward a bit. “And because I rather fancy you.” He kissed Gregg lightly on the lips and disappeared.  
  
Gregg’s mouth fell open. He still felt the warmth of the kiss, and he could smell the sandalwood of Singularity’s cologne. The sharp tang of magic hung in the air.  
  
It was all too much for him, and he fainted.  
  
Gregg woke with a nagging headache and a feeling that he'd forgotten something very important. He dressed and took the healing draught off the small wooden table. As he drank it something tugged at his memory.   
  
He put the glass vial on the table. Several minutes later it was replaced with an identical vial filled with healing potion.  
  
He poured it out onto the dirt outside and watched for several minutes until another spawned on the table where it had been.   
  
He stepped outside to begin his day, uneasy and anxious.  
  
Gregg looked up to the sky with its black, square hole, shuddering at the immensity of feeling that swept over him.  
  
And even though he didn't know what prompted his actions, he quietly asked, "why?"


End file.
